The Duel With Surtur
by jcdenton2012
Summary: An Eldar Swordmatron has stood undefeated for centuries on the icy planet of Niflheim. Now, an Ultramarine arrives to relieve her of her burden.


**The Duel with Surtur**

The snow was thick, falling, like a wave of white moving along the mountain chain of the ice world Niflheims' Northern recesses. Marching forward, undaunted due to their physical design against the harsh climate, came the space orks. There were a thousand of them lead by a Warboss whose body had been heavily augmented with primitive mechanical devices. Most of these hideous, disfigured, creatures, with their mutated fungi bodies, carried looted weapons such as Bolters and Lasrifles.

"Lets' go greenies! We don't got all day!" yelled the Warboss as he picked up a smaller green skin and threw him further up the mountain, colliding head to back with another space ork. The two fell faces forward into the snow, their bodies tangled and wiggling, eventually standing and continuing the climb.

Up ahead lay a massive stone ruin, a temple on top of the largest mountain of the largest mountain chain, at the very peak, shrouded in snow and mist. The space orks moved forward past ages of ruined buildings and sundered military vehicles. Every species was represented. Eldar Falcon battle tanks, strewn torn open from mighty weapons littered the mountain path. Old Tau Fire Soldiers lay slumped up alongside once mighty XV88 Broadside Battlesuits, slain, long dead and frozen into ice. Most still carried fully loaded railguns, a bad omen, given the orks prey. Up closest to the massive towering stone ruin were the long dead remains of a Blood Raven Chapter. Most of the men were laying strewn out in a semicircle at the buildings base, cut in half, dismembered like they were nothing.

The Warbosss stopped in his tracks. His fellow greenies did the same, as the snow and winds faded away. Slowly, something appeared before him. It was…

"Bollocks! You's suppose to be that demigod…" he said with humor. His fellow orks burst out laughing as the image of a six foot tall white skinned Eldar appeared sitting on the buildings highest steps. She wore a white loin cloth and a steel corset which held up her rather large breasts. Her arms and feet were bare revealing her beautiful pale skin, and her long blond hair reaching down to her waist blew behind her icy blue eyes.

"Lets get killin boys!"

The space orks ran forward, shooting, yelling "WWWAAAAGGHHHHH!"

With an obvious sneer of annoyance, the blond Eldar stood to her feet. She gripped something lying by her side. The orks had mere seconds, seconds to suddenly realize what she effortlessly raised like it was nothing. The massive seven foot long silver blade, glowing bright red as if encased in fire was raised with one hand. Then, the Eldar vanished.

The Warboss felt vertigo, and his heart stop beating. He was falling forward. No, half of him was falling backward. His green skins were flailing through the air off the side of the mountain. The woman was standing in front of him. He felt her right hand grad his severed head midflight. In his last moments of life she pulled his head up to her beautiful face. That face, bored. How long had see been so bored? He and his green skins had provided no amusement to her. And, as he realized exactly how trivial killing him and his men was… he perished mere inches away from her youthful pink lips.

Space Marine Veteran Sergeant Leom had heard the stories many times. The stories of the invincible female demi-god lioness bound to the icy mountains of Niflheim. Many had tried to tame her, but none had ever succeeded. Blood Angels, Eldar, Tau, Orks, Grey Knights, Chaos Marines, and at one time actual demons had all made honest to Throne attempts. However, Leom was bound and determined to give it 'his' attempt, for the glory of the Ultramarines. Step by step, he climbed the icy pathways up the mountainside. He passed long burned out military vehicles, dead bodies, and discarded weapons. The snow, in its best efforts, covered the landscape masking the worst of the ravages of war.

Alone, in his blue power armor, the trusty Thunder Hammer in his hands; he came to the stone ruins where the bodies of hundreds of recently slain orks lay immobile and frozen. The mist parted and the snow stopped. He looked forward and gasped. There, sitting on the uppermost steps of the ruin sat a Zeno, a six foot tall female Eldar, scantily clad in a white loincloth and steel bodice. His eyes narrowed in anticipation as she looked down at him, no, she looked down on him. His heart beat with furry. Who was this Zeno to look down on a Space Marine? But, just as he thought this, she did something very strange. She smiled.

"You came alone?" she asked with a booming voice which made the mountains shake.

Leom felt his bones shutter. It wasn't from the voices echo, but from the power behind the words. Looking up, gripping the power hammer even tighter he said, "I am Veteran Sergeant Leom of the Ultramarines! I come to test my valor! Prepare yourse…."

She interrupted him, "I don't care."

He looked up, stunned. She doesn't care? How could she not care?

"Look around you…" she said motioning towards the frozen battlefield surrounding the stone ruins, "They came to test their valor and look what it got them. What makes you even better? Do you not realize that you are merely the most recent person to stand here and challenge me? I don't care who you are, or that you want to fight me. This is because… it doesn't matter."

Leom felt his blood boil, "You Zenos BITCH!" he yelled. In a split second, he didn't even blink, she was faster than that. She stood before him, her right hand clasped around his throat, lifting him up off the ground effortlessly. Such power? For an Eldar this was unspeakable.

"Listen to me…" she said softly. He looked into her beautiful blue eyes. They were a strange mixture of self loathing and boredom, "I don't want to fight you because you can't kill me. You couldn't take me in a fair fight even if you wanted to. And, you know what's hysterical… I actually want someone to kill me. I've been trapped here for lord knows how long!"

She dropped him to the ground. Leom looked at her, they were at eye level. He could see past that beautiful face and into her real self. In that instant he understood exactly how much she hated herself for being trapped on this damn mountain. But, the question remained…. Why?

"I don't understand…" he muttered.

The Eldar looked at him. Her edge had been greatly reduced from annoyance to empathetic.

"I'm trapped on this damn mountain until someone bests me in mortal combat. It's a curse, a trap, I once boasted to be the strongest warrior in the Universe, and a God of Chaos known as Leviathan wagered that I could be slain, and should I prove him wrong then immortality, real immortality would be my reward. I foolishly accept his wager. Now, I am trapped, tied to this ruin until someone kills me."

"I could do that for you..."

"NO!" she yelled, her eyes angered, "A Mercy killing will not release me. It MUST be a battle slaying. But, for all my boasting, I am alas at a loss. I cannot be beaten. I have accepted countless offers for duels and I am too strong.

"I came here to fight, let me try…" One warrior to another. The Eldar nodded and flashed up the steps. Leom watched as she picked up her massive silver sword, the fire warping around the blade, as she looked down at him from on high.

"Prepare yourself space marine!"

Leom gripped his power hammer and watched as she charged him head on down the steps at normal pace. The sword came down; he parried, and immediately regretted doing so. The sword slammed down on the power hammers shaft driving Leom to his knees.

"By the throne!" he yelled in surprise. He wasn't expecting such power. He looked up, sweat dripping from his brow. The Eldar stood above him, holding the blade in place effortlessly, a frown on her face.

Leom felt his inner rage building. He was… 'inadequate.' He pushed the sword up and away, but the Eldar effortlessly and with one hand came down again. He parried, but she slashed again. Every bone in Leoms body ached by the fifth swing of her blade. Such power behind those punishing strikes, and it was clear that she wasn't even trying.

Then it came, a one handed swing straight down. Leom was defenseless. He couldn't parry her blade in time and so with grinding teeth he watched the blade approach his head and then stop centimeters from his face. Leom looked past the sword at the towering Eldar. For a Zeno he had to admit that she was ravishing, almost perfect. But, her eyes, tears ran down the sides of her cheeks.

"Can't you do any better?" she asked sobbing.

Leom felt his rage subside as the Eldar fumbled backwards, lowering her blade and defenses. In a slow moving grace she slopped down onto the steps of the ruin, crying, the blade thudding down besides her body.

"Can't you fight any better? Don't you see how futile this effort of yours is… How can I be expected to die in a fight like this?"

Leom had no answer. She was too powerful to kill in a fair fight. Other people, better armed, and more powerful than himself had tried and failed. In their mutual despair he suddenly realized something…

"This Chaos God? He said that you had to be defeated? He didn't say that you had to die, right? He didn't specify that it had to be by blades did he?"

The Eldar looked at him. Her eyes flashed with an instance of calmness, then happiness, and then savage hatred. She looked at him, and then resigned her anger to something more calm and priestly.

"No, what do you propose?"

Leom looked at her and for once found a rather unelaborate solution to an elaborate problem.

"On ancient Earth, the people had a simple game to determine the winner of trivial matters. Tell me… have you ever heard of rock, paper, scissors?"

Over the next few minutes Leom explained the trivial childrens game. Then they argued briefly on the illogical nature of rock beating paper. Then, at last they decided to play the game. After several attempts, eventually, Leom took the lead, and won.

The Eldar looked at him in unwary surprise. She walked towards the icy mountain path. She set foot beyond the battlefield and nothing happened. No force stopped her from leaving. Leom chuckled as her face light up with joy, tears streaming down her face. Then, she was running at him, she slammed into his armor. They tumbled backwards against the temple steps in a tangle.

It took a few seconds for Leom to realize what was happening, but when he did understand what she was doing the situation suddenly became VERY awkward. Her pink lips, they were pressed against his own, and she was hugging him.

They parted, and she looked at him sullen, "What? What do I do now?"

Leom looked at her. He was just as puzzled. Puzzled, more by the sudden act of intimacy more than the daft Eldars lack of forethought. In a matter of moments he adjusted back to his rigid self and looked at her.

"I don't know…"

She looked at him. There was a sort of innocence in her that was strange for an alien.

"Then…" she started, "Can I come with you?"

The Ultramarine looked at her with confusion. An Eldar, wanted to go with a human… because… it had nowhere else to go. He raised an eyebrow at the very thought.

"You do realize that your kind and mine don't really get along right?"

She looked at him blankly, "What is your kind?"

Leom felt his heart skip a beat. She was serious. She didn't know that he was a human.

"Uh," he started, "What year do you think it is?"

She looked at him. Once again her face was blank with knowledge, "If I had to guess," She started, "the year 1200 BC?"

Leoms face emptied of all color.


End file.
